


Corruption of a Paladin

by Amcm74



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-27 22:12:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2708576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amcm74/pseuds/Amcm74
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Night Elf Druid and a Human Warlock conspire in the most unlikely seduction of the staunchest most principled Paladin they can find, namely the Highlord Tirion Fordring. Proving that Deception and Manipulation has it's own Virtues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corruption of a Paladin

Disclaimer – I make no claim to own or having created any part of World of Warcraft. All characters and places mentioned are the exclusive property of their creators. This is a nonprofit work of fiction written to alleviate boredom and entertain only.

 

The Corruption of a Paladin

Chapter 1

Crimson sighed again leaning back in the chair at the Goldshire Tavern. Sheylann smiled happily down at her new pet, an ugly little two headed dog dripping green ooze from it's mouth.

"Isn't he adorable?!"

"Not really. He looks like the one you brought home from Molten Core." Crimson wearily lifted a tankard of strong Dwarven ale and swallowed hard.

"That one was orange. This one is green. They are completely different. I will call him Maximums." Sheylann looked over at her friend, better known to her mind as Warlock minion. "It wasn't bad. We never wiped."

"Grimthang, my voidwalker, probably will never come to my summons again; and I had a two hundred gold repair bill from all the deaths."

"I revived you though." Sheylann reminded her friend.

"Dying still hurts. Both physically and monetarily. I am going to have to spend the entire afternoon tomorrow in Eastern Plaguelands farming Thorium to make up for it." Crimson frowned at the thought of mining for hours, warding off the stinky undead. Screwing up her face in disgust, she lifted the tankard again... empty. "BARKEEP! I NEED MORE ALE!"

"You really shouldn't, you know. You can't hold your alcohol and the place is teaming with perverts." Sheylann looked to a human Mage sitting in a far corner staring at her. He smiled as big as he could and waved. Sheylann made a face of disgust and shuddered. She was a sexy blue skinned night elf Druid of Darnassus, and there was no way she was going to even entertain the thought of a human who read books for a living. He would be squishy in all the wrong spots. "Ewwwww." She let her attention move back to the Warlock pulling that ale off the platter the bartender brought out to her. "You are acting like it wasn't fun at all."

Crimson looked at the fellow showing interest in her friend, as a human herself, she saw nothing wrong with him. Then scoffed at the logic before pressing the drink to her mouth.

"Ok, what if I make it up to you." Sheylann suggested.

"You are going to give me back the two hundred gold?" Crimson almost dropped her ale. That was such a very un-Sheylann-like thing to do.

Sheylann gave a shocked look, "Well, no. But I can help you with a quest!"

"I don't have any." Crimson muttered, pressing the palm of her hand into her eye.

"Then I will give you one!"

"For the Love of Illidan, NO!" Crimson cried out in the name of the evil demon elf, who resided in Shadowmoon Valley, on the far off planet of Outland. Sheylann and Crimson both secretly swore allegiance to that one since he had been so completely and utterly screwed over by his twin brother Malfurion, Sheylann's "boss" and the whole of the night elf race. Both would do what ever it took to save poor dear Lord Illidan from evil raid groups that sought to kill him for outdated loot.

Sheylann sighed, "Since you are half, no mostly drunk, Who bothers you the most? We can take care of that one!"

"Tirion Fordring." Crimson growled as she weaved in her seat.

"Oh yes," Sheylann's eyes glowed brighter, a dreamy look flashed over Sheylann and she fanned herself. "He bothers me too!"

"When I finally get into the Argent Crusade, after all the god awful jousting, day after day after... uggghh. This retarded gnome Warlock summons this demon, that the little ass can't control. He gets himself killed. After the raid kills the demon, Tirion says, "And let this be a lesson to those of you who dabble in dark magics." Crimmy slammed her tankard down hard. Even a few patrons turn to look at her. Crimson snarled. Some of her hair falling over her face, "Curse on him! I was the only Warlock there! Like I didn't know who he was talking too."

"He addressed you personally?" Sheylann leaned forward. Her interest more then a little peeked.

Crimmy shut her eyes and waved her hands at her head, "No. I had my helm on. Had to protect my pretty, hic, face."

"He is your type, ya know." Sheylann pointed out. The malicious gears of a schemer going off in Sheylann's head "Paladins. You have a weakness for them."

"I got Gourrey." Crimmy sighed. One self righteous shoe obsessed shiny man was enough.

"But Tirion is an upgrade." Sheylann watched as Crimson remained completely silent on the issue. Clearly the Warlock was not going to try and argue the point. "You love Paladins, so let me break down the famous ones for you. Uther LightBringer, Dead. Saidan Dathrohan got possessed, you could have helped with that, but instead got Dead. General Turalyon is married. Which is most probably why he is missing and possibly Dead. Arthas, but does he really count as a Paladin anymore? He was the Lich King, which means he was Dead, but now is... Oh yea... Dead. Then poor Bolvar Fordragon, he wants everyone to believe he is Dead. So as far as Paladins go, Tirion is the only impressive one that doesn't have Dead at the end of his current resume. Making him completely doable."

"You do realize he is married, right?" Crimmy tilted her head at Sheylann. Wondering if the night elf had truly gone insane this time. It never was a far leap.

"Please. You are a Warlock, what does holy ties mean to you? Really, girl you are grasping at straws here. He was married. Was. Have you seen her around? No? Me either. In fact," Sheylann got out of her chair and slid around the table to Crimmy's side. "From everything I have learned, they haven't been together in years. For all we know, she's dead. His son is dead. He even said once his fondest memory with his wife was of a painting. Standing in the middle of a dock for hours was the best thing that ever happened between them. Poor man must be very lonely. You could fix that. At least for an evening."

Crimson leaned over the table to rest her chin on it. Rubbing her temples. "Please stop."

"Oh and let me not forget his titles. Highlord Tirion, Supreme Commander of the Argent Crusade Tirion, which we are members of, and the Ashbringer. All yummy enough to be cheesecake toppings."

"Then why don't you throw yourself at him instead of me? Druid would be a far more acceptable profession then Warlock in his estimation. Remember he already told me as much."

Sheylann frowned, "Because I have a log full of quests that are already hard enough. Besides I'm not the one with the Paladin fetish. You are. I'm more of a Rogue kinda girl. So tomorrow when you are done mining all that thorium, I suggest you stop by Hearthsglen in Western Plaguelands and say hello to our Supreme Commander." Patting Crimmy on the back, Sheylann added, "I'll pack your Argent tabard for you. Just to be safe."

If Crimson refused and did not go to Hearthglen, Sheylann would continue to needle her. So as the horse loped up the hill into the settlement, Crimson did find herself amazed. Last time she was there, it was to rip souls from the Scarlet Crusaders and stock up on runecloth. Now the area was under the control of Tirion Fordring and the Argent Crusade. The crumbled towers were being rebuilt and the patrols that passed her on the roads were adorn in the Argent's colors. Years of bad memories of being attacked in this place made Crimson move out of their way despite the change of power. Old habits were hard to break. Riding around the first towers she saw Tirion himself leaning over a table looking at some papers. The men with him seemed not to be of the warrior class. So she assumed it was building plans and not battle. Sheylann had been right. He was here in Hearthglen. Crimson's hope that the Highlord was back up in Northrend had not proven true. But with the death of the Lich King what reason would there be to remain. Especially not when Deathwing was roaming the lands setting fire to everything. Aside Crimson. Curse the blasted achievement, Stood in the Fire. If the damn dragon kept running away from her, she would never finish that one.

Turning her mount she headed for the stable. It was to late to head out for the night. Yes, she could camp somewhere out on the mountain, and had done that more then enough times despite her handy hearthstone. But the profitable thorium ore was here, and that meant most of the time so was she. A bed in Hearthglen would be so much nicer. A nagging voice in the back of her head told her a bed with Lord Tirion would be even much better then that. She pulled the horse to a halt. Her lower lip puffing out and trembling. Even her subconscious was working against her. How did Sheylann know? Damn her. Damn Paladins. Damn their shiny armor, noble ideas, and muscular bodies. Bodies that could rush into a field of enemies, cutting down everything in their path. That could battle for hours carrying that heavy armor, lifting heavy swords. Their stamina was legend. Crimson's stomach tightened. Curse it all! She did have a thing for Paladins! She narrowed her eyes and hissed out the words "Sheylann. I HATE YOU." Life would have been so much better off if she remained unconsciously undressing them in the back of her mind. Now that it was pointed out, Crimson had no idea how she was going to work with them in any respect without turning into maniacal laughter.

It didn't take Crimson long to stable her horse. There was plenty of empty stalls. Hearthglen was still recovering from the Scarlet's hold. Plus the Plaguelands were just now becoming repopulated since the undead had been rooted out. The sun sank fast in the sky. The patrols starting to come out bearing torches and lighting the paths. She made a quick change of clothes in the back of the stall behind her horse. Sauntering around in Warlock gear never did make a good impression on locals. She was always unappreciated. After all who didn't like to watch their enemies die a long slow painful death, and as an Affliction Warlock, Crimson did that for a living. The white lace top and long blue skirts were plain and common enough. Folding her gear she set it carefully on top of her pack and folded the flap. Headed to the tavern to inquire about a room. The building was strangely empty for this time of evening. One would have thought the locals who put in such a hard day rebuilding the area would be eager for a drink and revelry. She moved to the barkeeper who was tending to one lone customer.

The commanding voice gave him away in the dim room even before her eyes had time to adjust. The Light must hate her. Or favor her. At this moment she wasn't sure which was more likely at this point. Tirion leaned against the bar talking pleasantly with the barkeeper. The chances of finding herself in this situation was astronomical. It was as if the entire scene had been organized by one of the Bronze dragon flight. Those pesky time travelers who played favorites with destiny. Crimson narrowed her eyes to near slits. If she was not completely sure they had much more important matters to attend. As Crimson came to stand beside him, she cast a glance his way. Perhaps now would be the time to dig out the Argent tabard and hold it up before her as a shield. It would probably be the best defense since she had never actually confronted him personally. Something she had been longing for since his comments in the Colosseum back in the training grounds. She set a shaky hand on the bar. Her attention diverted to the sword on his back. She was standing next to Ashbringer. A sword whispered in Legend made true. She had been in its presence before, yes. This close, never. The sword was light in righteousness now. It had been corrupted once, but cleansed by the power of light in Tirion Fordring. Crimson frowned. She had no light of her own. She was death and pain with a few demons tossed in for spice.

"You are new in Hearthglen. Let me welcome you." Tirion sent a warm smiled her way and raised his glass, "Would you like a drink, fair girl?"

Crimson sucked in her breath, wondering if she had been caught eying the Ashbringer. It took her a moment to realize that Tirion had offered her a drink. What was happening here? If he had any idea who he was talking to he would scowl down at her, snap a scathing remark and toss her out of the keep. Well, she was a member of the Argent Crusade. She might not end up out of the keep entirely. More like banished to some dark corner reserved for her kind and misbehaving rogues. Thinking on his offer for a drink, left her pinching her leg. Just to make sure she was awake. Although it still left her doubtful that some arcane magic was at work. "I would not mind. Just give me whatever you are having."

The bartender laughed and cocked and eyebrow at her, "It's strong stuff this guy swills down from time to time. How well do you handle your alcohol?"

Crimson dropped her pack to the ground "Not well at all. But moments when you find yourself in an empty tavern with the Highlord Tirion, I think it might just require something stronger then wine."

"So you know me?" Tirion was not overly surprised. Why should he be? After the last few years one would have to have been living under a rock not too.

"Actually, yes I do." Crimson sighed, as she watched the bartender retrieve the bottle.

"Have we been formally introduced?" Tirion reflected thoughtfully, taking a drink from his glass, "I am afraid you do not seem familiar to me."

The time she and her party were introduced to him for practice training, and the moment he personally rebuked her dark magic came to mind first off. Oh, she had been introduce alright. Several hundred times it seemed. Unsure what exactly to say, she was relieved that her drink was set in front of her by a very eager bartender. Glancing at the drink and knowing it was probably pure poison. Crimson decided not to answer at all. She grabbed the glass and shot it back. Her suspicions had been correct. Liquid fire, by the light, the stuff was stronger then a life tap. She was fully aware of the two men laughing at her.

"I told you it was strong." The bartender chuckled.

"Perhaps I can get you something more to your liking?" Tirion offered with a gentlemanly air. Although the smile was so bright fine lines near his eyes could be seen. "It's the least I can do for exposing you to this stuff."

"Please, and bring the Highlord, another one of his favored drinks." Crimson tossed him a coy smile. "On me."

The drink set down before them and Crimson took hold of the refined goblet. So this was the drink they found suitable to her. A deep red wine the color of fresh blood. She was obviously transparent. Swirling it in the glass she delicately tasted it, and deemed it worthy.

"Northshire grapes." The bartender motioned to the glass. "You look like someone of the Abby."

"Good guess. I have been there before." Crimson left out the fact she did not actually study there. That was for Paladins, Priests, and Mages. Her kind were left in the back to sulk around the graveyards, not that she had anything to do with the undead. She decided to leave that information out. A moment savored to look around the room. "Why is it so quiet tonight?"

The bartender cleared his throat and turned to washing up some glasses. While Tirion reached to gulp down his drink. Crimson remained silent. If there was anything her years of playing the Alliance lackey had taught her was when information was being withheld. The two were so obvious that this was a subject best left unspoken, they might as well held up a flashing sign. But then most of the time it was her job to get information like this. She sipped on the wine and pondered. To let it a mystery or pry the knowledge from them. Then on the other hand there was a good chance she could figure it out on her own without much prompting. It was not like she was clueless about certain events. "The silent routine. We could change the subject, I have to admit, being a woman I tend to press until my curiosity is satisfied." Crimson threw down the gantlet.

The bartender set the bottles before them. "With Lord Fordring here, I am not worried about anything bad happening. So I am going to go in the back and clean up."

"Really?" Crimson watched the man make his escape, and then turned back to Tirion. The Highlord had lost his smile and stared blindly ahead. "So that tells me that he knows what is up. Clearly not war related."

Tirion shook his head and looked down. "What would a young girl like you know of war."

Only someone as high up as Tirion Fordring could get away with that one. If days spent fighting the Horde over Alterac Valley, and being pinned down in Warsong was not hell there was no true definition of it. Secondly, Crimson laughed, "Girl." She had not heard that in a long time, and she certainly did not like it. Reaching out she slid the bottle away from Tirion. He looked over at her in confusion. "If you are seeing me as a girl, then you have clearly imbibed a bit to much."

In gentle response, he clasped down on her hand and pulled the bottle back. "This is one of the few nights I allow myself."

Crimson sat up sharply. So this was a personal battle. As a Warlock, she understood everyone's right to face their personal demons, in their own way. Her way being a little more hands on then most. "Then let's play a little game." Crimson was not about to let her curiosity just be snuffed out. "We will ask each other questions. And if you don't want to answer it, just drink and we can move on."

Tirion chuckled and dropped his hand from the bottle. Crimson reached over and poured him a shot. Then holding up her glass to him, "You can go first."

"I'll make it easy on you. What is your name, girl?"

Crimson swirled her wine and downed the glass. Nope. No way she was answering that one."My turn. Where do you keep the Ashbringer when it's not with you?"

He blinked and laughed "I am certainly not about to answer." Reaching down he downed his drink. "You did that on purpose, knowing I wouldn't answer you."

"Yes," Crimson reached over and poured another drink for the Highlord. "My turn again."

"That was a statement, not a question!" Tirion argued as she filled the glass to the very brim.

Crimson waved her finger at him. "No cheating. I answered it, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did." Tirion nodded, "and I just answered one for you."

"Since when are Paladins allowed to openly cheat in drinking games?" Crimson frowned. Knowing the wine was already taking effect. Why was she so easily inebriated? One would think she would have built up some sort of tolerance to the stuff. She drank with Dwarves for the Light's sake! But over the years it seemed it had just gotten worse.

"We never cheat. And you just asked two in a row."

"You just lied! In all my days," She shook her head, "A lying Paladin. What has my world come too. Fine then ask away." She poured another glass.

"What brings you to Hearthsglen?" Tirion pushed the glass at her. "If you wont give me your name then, surely you wont answer that one."

"Thorium!" Crimson giggled, placing one hand over her mouth. "I was collecting ore for the auction house."

Tirion leaned back and looked at her, "You certainly do not have the physical appearance of a miner. Do you Weapon smith or Armor craft?"

Crimson shook her head. "If only it were so easy. Engineer."

"I would hate to see you with a shrink ray." Tirion pulled up his drink and down another shot.

"It's a World Enlarger." Crimson poured him another drink. "At least that is what my Gnomish trainer called it when I got the patterns."

Tirion laughed as he sloshed back another drink, "Does it work?"

"No." Crimson reached out and sipped her wine. "Why are you drinking?"

"Because, girl, you are fairly weaving in your chair and I am trying to catch up."

Crimson frowned and looked a the bottles that were nearly empty. How much time had passed? More importantly how much had she drank? She looked down at her glass and wondered for a moment why the liquid was lapping from side to side. Setting the glass on the bar she noticed that it became perfectly still as the glass itself rocked. Damn it all. She was drunk.

"You have been a good drinking companion. Tonight I didn't think I would do much more then lament about a life that never was. So I'll tell you why it's so quiet in Hearthglen and why I am in this humble tavern knocking back the hardest drink on hand." Tirion poured himself a glass and tossed it back. "It was on this day that I was exiled from the Alliance and the gift of the Light lifted from me. I lost everything save the honor I so wished to protect." Crimson knew the story well. But allowed Tirion to continue. "I thought my son would rise to my station. That watching over him from afar was enough. In the end, it cost his life before my sense was returned to me. I stood still. Did nothing for so long." He poured another drink. "I should have done more with my life." The drink disappeared yet again and Tirion looked broken and despondent in that moment.

"You came forward and united the great heroes of this time under the Argent Crusade's banner and took down the Lich King. It was all through your efforts. The task was near impossible." Crimson took her glass back in hand. Gazing off into the distance herself. It was hard to see the great Tirion Fordring contemplating his past and feeling like he came up lacking. If that were the case what of the rest of the world's petty achievements.

"You seem to know more then you should, girl."

"I know nothing." She looked back at him. "Aside for the fact you are going to need someone to help with your plate tonight."

"Are you offering."

To Tirion's shock she pushed away from the bar, rocking for a moment precariously on her feet. "No. I am telling you. Let's get to your chambers, my lord."

Tirion shook his head and put his hand up. "That might not be wise given the state we are in."

"Do you rather pass out in your armor then take the chance I might seduce you?" Crimson stepped closer and laid a hand on the chest piece. He looked down at her and remained silent. Leaning over, Crimson poured him another drink. "If you are not going to answer..."

The Highlord lifted his hand to cup the back of her head and leaned low. As their lips met, Crimson knew the answer. Sheylann had been right. He was a very lonely man with the weight of a lifetime filled with only his honor and regrets behind him. Tonight, just for tonight, she could ease some of that. It was the least she could do for the man who had saved the whole of Azeroth from the Lich King. At least that was how she would explain this to herself. Not that she was an evil Warlock seducing the most powerful Paladin in the land for lust's sake. Although either could be true.


End file.
